


Sayings of Grimm

by Quantum_Tarantino



Category: RWBY
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Soulforms, Who's Waldo But With Artsy Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-02-01 06:09:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21411235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantum_Tarantino/pseuds/Quantum_Tarantino
Summary: Ozpin manages to get in touch with someone who can see souls.So what does the cast look like, when not constrained by the necessities of biology or limits of logic?
Comments: 11
Kudos: 26





	Sayings of Grimm

Frigg shifted her stance uncomfortably. Elevators always made her uneasy. Sure, she knew that they virtually never fell, and even if one happened to do so, there were emergency brakes to stop it immediately. But still, she could feel the gaping void right under the thin plate of steel she was standing on, growing ever deeper as they ascended the Beacon tower.

Her father wasn't concerned, by virtue of lacking her sight, but he still kept his hand on her shoulder, his spindly fingers resting on her bare skin. It was just a sentimental gesture, but for a sentimental fear, it did make the trip more tolerable.

"Five more floors," he said, reading the display she couldn't see. "Not every day you get to meet a Headmaster, right?"

She just nodded absent-mindedly, feeling something take shape at the edge of her senses as they approached. She made a point of not looking when she didn't have to, so she frowned. Five floors and she could already feel something? That was... Oh dear.

She swallowed as the form only grew, a large entity taking shape as they climbed the last few floors, and she flinched when the doors opened.

That was not normal. In the middle of the room sat a colossal, amorphous shape, towering over everything and consuming all her attention. It was composed of something like gears, a billion tiny cogs and knobs meshing with each other and spreading across the room like a growth, mechanized tendrils reaching the walls and crawling up them. The gears came in every possible shape, size and material. Most metallic, some bone, some more exotic still, and they all ticked and halted in tune with a heartbeat, making cryptic patterns flash over the form as the configuration changed.

They coalesced towards the middle, rising into a clockwork tumulus which finally reached the shape of a regular-sized humanoid torso, looking down at them. Its head was wrapped in weathered green burlap sack, tied with frayed rope and its edges torn to shreds by the constant motion of the gears.

She stood there, frozen. She had seen many souls before. Many of them odd, some disgusting, a few terrifying. She had stopped telling people about them long ago without prompting, but even so, she was staring at something entirely different. It was... monumental. Bigger than any she had seen before, and it was _imposing._ Calculating. Inevitable. Dangerous, like a primed Gravity bomb was, with the tension between the gears seemingly coiling tighter with every tick. The movement of the parts was tireless, and she couldn't help but feel like she was staring down the barrel of one of those mechanized guns the Hunters so favored. She was looking at a weapon, that was certain, and she just had to wonder what kind of horrors were out there that needed something... something like _this_ to grow.

"Ah, Ms. and Mr. Steinluson," the shape said, his tone friendly and conversational. "Glad that you could make time for us."

Snorri squeezed her shoulder, and she glanced at him, seeing the chiseled smile look down at her. "Of course," he said, prompting Frigg to take a tentative step forward. "Theodore has gone above and beyond in accommodating us, so it's the least we can do. And do call me Snorri, please."

Frigg cleared her throat and nodded, following Snorri's guidance as they started walking towards the towering shape, the gears sinking into ground and receding before them, giving them space. "Uh, yes. Usually people aren't too keen on hearing what I have to say," she said, ignoring the feeling of being surrounded by the mounds of clockwork. They weren't real, she told herself.

"Niche Semblances are so often disregarded entirely," the shape said, head tilting down to look at her. "But where are my manners. I am professor Ozpin." An appendage started building out from the mass, gears crawling over each other to form something like a hand towards them. Frigg shook it, drawing a curious tilt of the head from Ozpin. "Oh? I was under the impression that you were conventionally blind."

Frigg shrugged, feeling Ozpin's palm against hers, normal skin instead of gnashing metal teeth. "Well, conventionally. Unconventionally, no." The walls of the office were distant to her, but she could feel the gentle solidity of them, the remains of a thousand Auras pressing against them, regarding them as something more than just glass and concrete. A symbol. It felt comforting.

Ozpin hummed and shook her father's hand too, and he guided them to their seats, which Frigg found with only a little prompting. "Very promising. I'll get straight to the point, then." He pulled back, the masses of gears jerking over the floor with the motions of a pendulum. "We are exploring a method of remote viewing. Providence has seen fit to gift us with several people who might be able to make that happen if working together, and we are curious if you would be able to be the missing piece in the puzzle."

Using her like a tool, was it. She really wanted to be miffed by that, but at the same time, being useful would be nice. And, if you really thought about it, that's what all 9-to-5 jobs were, right?

"Who is this 'we'?" she asked, looking away from the imposing mass. She could sense the windows around them where the vague feeling of _something_ terminated at an utter void. This high up, the vista had to be impressive.

"Primarily, general Ironwood and I. He in particular has been keen on utilizing esoteric Semblances, as seen by the Haystack initiative. Pietro Polendina, an engineer of his, has been the primary driving factor behind most of the technology, and our own professor Goodwitch has helped with managerial aspects of the project. The councils are aware and in approval of it, and we believe it has potential."

She had heard about Haystack. Apparently Atlas was scraping the bottom of the barrel of people with unlocked Auras, providing them with lodging and minimal training in hopes of striking gold, but she hadn't been interested in looking into the program past that since it would mean moving out to Atlas. The letter inviting her here had promised a much more lucrative compensation, and given her disability, she'd feel bad if she turned an opportunity like that down.

"What do you need me for?" she said, glancing at her father and giving him a short smile. His stony expression was unchanged, a perpetual smile she knew was genuine.

"A focus, of sorts," Ozpin said. "Atlas's recent military research has provided some unconventional insights into how Aura works, and with the help of some cutting-edge technology – and several consultants from the Haystack project – we are able to disentangle the point of view of a person from them, to a degree. We are unsure of the range of it, but it is long. However, the problem is that it is a very... narrow type of view which is why we are looking into sensory Semblances which might be able to bridge the gap and provide us with useful information."

Frigg frowned. "I can mainly see people. Very rarely anything solid, never Grimm, and nothing in detail." They were asking her to spy on people.

Ozpin sighed and there was a clink, as if he had put something down on his desk. "There are many persons of interest out there we would very much like to know the location of. Especially Hunters and Huntresses gone rogue. The unfortunate interruption of the last Vytal Festival serves as a reminder that Grimm are not the only monsters out there."

She shivered. She had been downtown when it had happened, and even when she tried to suppress her ability, she couldn't help but feel the people around her. So much fear, so much panic. The... feel of the people she sensed changed with their emotions, and even if the situation had been brought under control, it had been very nearly catastrophic. She didn't want to think about what could've happened if the Atlesian army had not been ready to intervene immediately.

"I... I see," she said after a moment, looking up to the giant figure in front of her. "I would like to help, if I can."

Her sight was useless at picking up physical subtleties, but she knew Ozpin was smiling. "Wonderful. Let us start with a few simple experiments to define the limits of your ability."

* * *

Frigg shifted uncomfortably again. This time it wasn't the void under her but the impossible weight over her. She was in the basement of Beacon, and she could feel every last grain of the citadel's weight on top of her. She saw things more clearly if people thought them meaningful, and Beacon was, well, a beacon. It was a symbol, and all the more heavier for it.

"Alright. Are you ready?" Glynda asked her, subtly tugging her riding crop forward which Frigg was holding onto for guidance.

"As ever," she said, following the pull of the crop and unable to avert her sight from Glynda. She truly was beautiful. A mass of small black leather cubes, forming a larger sixteen-by-sixteen block. A few of them were missing, and the rest shifted constantly to fill in the gaps, moving with lockstep precision to slide in and out of the free slots. Between them you could see an enchanting purple glow emanate from the middle, the sparkling, pulsing and flickering glimmer just as erratic as the outside was rigid.

A few of the cubes clicked in place faster as Glynda pulled her slightly by the crop. "Excellent. Please lie down here," she said and guided her to a cot of some sort. Frigg had to feel her way there, testing the edges of it, and Glynda put something in her hands. "Put that on your head when you feel ready."

Frigg nodded and donned the bowl. The inside was covered in weird, blunted rubbery studs, and something about the... shape of them felt wrong to her her senses. Despite the tactile feeling of them, it felt like she was holding a blade to her skin. It should be entirely safe, though. Or so she had been told, at least.

"Good," Glynda said and tilted the helmet slightly, pulling a few straps and turning a dial. "When you're ready, press this button," she said and put a plastic handle in her hand which she clenched tightly. "If you want to stop or take a break, press it again."

She nodded and shifted her position, taking a few breaths and then jamming the button.

It didn't hurt. Didn't even feel weird, surprisingly. She felt her Aura bloom like it did when she focused her Semblance, and then it just... flowed like water going downhill, through the machine. She had never seen anything like that, and then the ground was yanked from beneath her feet as her point of view shot away. It was dizzying, with the slightest inkling of an intent throwing her upside down and across the land, showing her a flurry of glimpses and fragments of people.

* * *

A thorny vine, forming something like a pedestal. On the outside, covered in blooming roses, soft and pleasant. On the inside, coiled tightly around a solid silver orb near the top, heavy and adamantine, the slender vines struggling to hold up its weight. They constricted the orb with force, scraping and scratching against it, but the orb was entirely immutable and unbreakable with a pristine sheen to it.

A giant stone stele, heavy and immobile. Solid gray stone with a few streaks of sediment in it, some cracks and chips adorning the sides. A steady stream of mist emanated from it, billowing outwards and enveloping anything nearby.

A large metal gauntlet, clenched into a tight fist. Imposing rivets decorating the knuckles, the grip strong enough to make something dark trickle between the fingers. Blood or oil, she wasn't sure. The side of it was welded together, prominent scars worn smooth by time and use.

A mound of fur, like an overgrown bear. Soft and warm, comforting, but whatever lay underneath was different. Its side was scarred, pockmarked with bald patches and old burn marks, and under it you could sometimes glimpse something like an enormous clawed fist, making it move like a gorilla.

Jagged shards of a mirror, glued together into a dizzying shape. The largest shard slashed a manic grin across the shape, making it stare at her with mad glee. Every time it moved, the glass broke and shattered, only to form anew.

A human-shaped vacuum of air, flickering erratically from place to place. Perpetually moving and turning its head, trailing a shapeless mass of things in its wake. Books, dirt, cups, torn notebook pages and other things followed its pull, only ever reaching it for a split-second before it ran off elsewhere.

A tall suit of bronze armor with plating far too thick and heavy for any human to wield. The faceplate was solid, the eyeslits only shallow indents on it, hiding the inside entirely. It stood stoically with its arms crossed, still enough to be a statue if it weren't for the fluttering motion of the red crest jutting from the top of the helmet.

A shambling mound of black tar, slender enough to seem humanoid. It dripped an oily black substance wherever it moved, leaving behind a lingering trail. It moved awkwardly, as if struggling through a bog, flapping and jerking forwards.

A warbling susurration of sound and color, beating rapidly and smearing itself everywhere it turned. Changing shape and color constantly, wrapping around things and then bouncing off like a bolt of lightning.

A scarred bundle of thick leather, forming a shapeless, patched brick. Cut, burnt and torn in many places, trailing scraps of leather like entrails, with thick needles jutting out of it, carelessly poking at everything in vicinity as it trembled and jerked unpredictably.

A mass of armor plating, as if someone had thrown three sets of armor together. They were crushed together with terrible force, forming a tight ball, but in the core of it was a thundering ball of fusion, pushing the armor plates away against the gravity pulling them in. It made for a violent equilibrium with the armor forming a shell around the fire within, sparks and flames occasionally streaking out from between the gaps, heating the metal to a glow and making it shed a soft, warm light around it.

A still pond, serene and reflecting a cloudless spring sky. A lone lily pad floated in the middle, drifting from side to side. It was unnaturally still, but peering into the water showed that it was steadily boiling at the bottom, with thousands upon thousands of tiny eyes bubbling up and disappearing.

A swarm of motes of bright yellow light, spreading far and wide. Sometimes coalescing into a humanoid shape, sometimes an animal, but usually just wandering around and roaming freely, all still rotating in and out to be a part of a whole.

A tiny ball of something soft. Almost imperceptible, but it was happy.

A maelstrom of red and black, drawing in light and attention. Colors warped as they got close to the middle, where a single unblinking blood-red eye stared back, wide and intense.

An elegant machine of some sort, vaguely reminiscent of a typewriter made of black steel and brass. It clicked away constantly to an enigmatic beat, different parts moving and shifting for purposes unknown.

A set of metal balls carried by gusts of wind and orbiting in a tidy circle. Curiously, it seemed broken, with a part of the rim missing entirely and a few of the balls molten or shorn in half. They moved lightly nonetheless, the balls speeding and skipping over the missing part of the arc during the slow rotation of it.

A slender sculpture of frost and glass, a dusting of snow and mist enveloping it. The glass and ice stuck out in jarringly sharp shapes, the shards and edges always forming geometric snowflake shapes over the body with some of them jutting out of the figure, one almost cleaving its head in half.

A mass of steel wings, flickering and beating one moment and curling into each other the next. Some big, some small. Some flightless and broken, some grand and glorious. In the middle crackled something like a blast furnace, arcs of lightning rippling through the soul with every motion.

A willow, halfway through a change of seasons. Lush and green at the top, the verdant colors giving way to autumnal yellows and browns towards the bottom, first leaves already having fallen from the steady wind.

A collection of hands, taking a vaguely humanoid shape with the "arms" trailing towards the floor. Its movements were odd as the hands simply appeared in the new position with no in-between, and when still, it seemed to draw in and fade to background. Some of the hands were unraveling behind it, leaving trailing strands of smoke to flutter in its wake.

A bulky figure sitting on a throne with a crown on its head. A weapon was on its lap, perhaps a gun or an axe, and it was hunched over, as if waiting. The hands grasping the stock or pommel of the weapon were the only things moving, almost nervously clenching and unclenching it.

A large oak with white bark and ragged black feathers for leaves. Hardy and gnarled, looking like it had been struck by lightning. A constant, powerful gust of cold wind threatened to uproot it entirely, making it quake and tearing off leaves as soon as they regrew.

A single hot coal, set on a flat rock in the middle of a rainstorm. In spite of the downpour, a small wisp of flame sat on the coal, merrily flicking away in the dark, uncaring and unaffected by the raging storm around it.

A curious jack-in-the-box toy, anchored and tangible unlike any other she had seen. A small doll bounced on a spring from it, swinging this way and that, flitting from one thing to the next with a broad, painted smile on its face.

A big bloated humanoid shape made of something like bubblegum. The otherwise featureless face had a few deep creases on it, forming an expression with an impossibly wide, joyous smile.

A cloud of curved daggers like claws, pulled back with high tension. It moved with deliberation, claw-like blades digging into ground as it stalked gracefully, proud and ready to strike out without a moment's notice.

A single small flame, white-hot and keening like a blowtorch. It was shooting up from a blob of something black and viscous threatening to smother it, and a swirling torrent of leaves bore down on it relentlessly. Despite that, the flame was steady and intensely bright, only making the leaves ignite on contact and spiral upwards, forming a droning updraft which spat ash and dust from the top.

A hulking golem made of dark and gnarled bread, lumbering forward and sloughing off bits and pieces of itself, every movement looking agonizing. There was a large tear on its chest, letting you see through.

A mass of thunder clouds, roiling and striking at everything underneath. On top of it sat a tiny rainbow, bright but flickering in and out as unseen clouds blocked sunlight.

A monolith of white marble, almost like a building. Blocky and grand, but simultaneously oddly fragile, as if it been built to only look imposing.

_A draw, something different nearing. Vast, like Ozpin, but..._

—an enormous gaping maw of jagged obsidian, ravaged deep into the ground as if an angry god had punched it asunder. It was titanic, beyond anything she had seen, black chasms gouged into it which were further torn and warped by eldritch energies. A constant, mad scream reverberated from the depths of it, enormous fangs of broken black glass jutting from its sides, dripping oily acid towards the bottomless pit down below. It was like a black hole, drawing her in, staring back at her, razor-sharp edges nearing—

* * *

Frigg screeched and threw away the helmet, not caring about the strap pulling taut and bruising her chin before the buckle let go, the connection severing immediately and forcing her perspective back to present. Her heart raced and she scrambled up, lost and flailing around, trying to orient herself.

"Frigg! Are you okay!?" Glynda yelled and rushed to her side, and Frigg grasped her arm firmly, breathing out of her control. She was drenched in cold sweat, shivers going down at her spine as the all-consuming _wound_ still filled her mind's eye.

She nodded shakily, drawing strength from the feel of someone solid next to her. Glynda's cubes were moving faster and the glow from within was bright, and focusing on that helped her calm down. "Y—yeah, yeah," she said after a few moments, the immense weight of the Beacon above her suddenly feeling protective.

"Did something go wrong?" Glynda asked, turning and putting her other hand on Frigg's shoulder.

She shook her head, swallowing thickly. "Just... saw something." The scream still echoed in her ears. "Someone."

She couldn't see it, but she could almost sense Glynda frowning, the cubes stopping for a fraction of a second. "I see," she said after a second, leaving it at that. Frigg looked up to where she knew her head was, staring her in silence. She knew about... whatever that had been.

Glynda sighed, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Let me call in the others. They are probably interested."

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, I had a blast coming up with the descriptors. +50 DKP to anyone who can figure out all of them. Another +50 to anyone who gets what leaps of logic resulted in this particular title.


End file.
